sex, lies and poetry reading
I know, the title is actually sex, lies and video tapes but in my case, being one of the few survivors without a TV yet, the change of title seems to be logical. More even when you are a literature professor, mainly devoted to poetry. By the way, how can you handle talking the whole day about love, idilic sites, nature, romanticism...when your real life is pure chaos in terms of love relationships? Just disconnect. Try to think of something really ugly when you deal with gorgeous country landscapes, or, more convenient, pronounce this sentence to yourself -obviously not aloud in class- when you read a romantic love declaration: "don't trust him honey; he's speaking the same bullshit all men do and very likely he will tell the same to your closest friend " . . . or almost. She was not my closest friend but was starting to become one. Why is life such a bitch and books no help when you are trying to escape reality? Is fiction more real than reality? Are all my relationships ficticious? What is Matrix, and more important, what was the color of the pill you have to take to escape from here? I never remember...In any case the second part is coming, as usual, the same but "reloaded." Like my relationships... But this one promises to be great, thanks to divine Keanu. Men...I'll never learn.